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"Standing Outside the Fire"Written By: Honor Disclaimers: Mine! Mine! Mine! Pairings: 2x5, 3x4 Warnings: AU, language, twisted humor, lime, lemon,
some angst, significant OC, brief moments of sap, romance, a bit of
violence Archived: On Gundam Wing Diaries Betas: Velvet *huggles* Author’s Notes: You know those dreams that
you keep dreaming over and over again for weeks? The ones that don’t
go away until you write them down? Yeah, that’s exactly what
happened. I passed the idea by one of my betas, to see if it was worth
putting on paper. Her response was “Write it. NOW.” So I
wrote it. The rest is…ah, what follows after my insane notes.
Feedback is my diet…and I’m getting
pretty lean so send me something to munch on, okay? Flames will result in me tormenting you for your
inability to read warnings. And I’m good at tormenting. Just
ask the boys. *emphasized* /thought/ //phone// "Standing Outside the Fire"
Courage can't see around corners, but goes around them
anyway.
But tonight, he just couldn’t do it. He groaned as Quatre’s mouth descended to nibble on his earlobe. He wanted him, so badly. And was terrified of what would happen when Quatre saw his body. He had been very careful until now to keep shirt and shorts on at all times. Even if they were in the pool he was either wrapped up in a huge beach towel or in the deep end where the water was covering him. Quatre wasn’t a shallow person. Trowa had no fears that he would recoil at the scars covering his lover’s body. But he knew that the blond’s quick, facile mind would want to know the story behind all of those old injuries. /I don’t want him to know. I don’t want him to see anything more than who and what I am now./ And he couldn’t hold himself back any longer. He rolled to reverse their positions, attacking Quatre’s mouth, making that brilliant and observant mind hazed over with passion. His hands quickly unbuttoned Quatre’s shirt, pulling the edges apart and baring his chest. Quatre’s hands went to his lover’s back, tracing the paths of muscle through the thin cotton shirt. He knew that tonight Trowa wouldn’t pull back, so he let his tall Latin boyfriend take the reins, and set the pace. Trowa felt the submission and relaxed a little. He could enjoy this, enjoy Quatre without any fear of what might be. It would just require a little caution on his part. He trailed his mouth down to a stubborn chin and nibbled on it gently even as his hands started working Quatre’s pants off. Quatre’s hands fell to the waistband and he wriggled, helping him. As soon as the jeans had been tossed off the bed, Trowa let his hands smooth up Quatre’s sides and rubbed his thumbs against stiffening nipples. Quatre groaned, shifting into Trowa’s touch restlessly. It felt good, but it could also feel a lot better. Drawing in a deep breath he found enough sanity to demand, “Your mouth. Use your mouth.” Trowa grinned, giving him a sideways look as he lowered his mouth to the right side and roughly lashed the nubbin with his tongue. Quatre’s hands went to dark auburn hair and hung on, guiding a little as he was sweetly devoured with tongue, teeth, lips. When he couldn’t stand anymore, Trowa shifted to the other side and bit down gently on the sensitive flesh. Dark pleasure coursed through the Arabian and he shivered, panting for air. “Nnh!” Even as his mouth worked its way down, Trowa dropped his hands to the straining erection pressed against his thigh and began to pump with gentle nudges of his palm. Quatre reached for him, intending to take the thin shirt and shorts Trowa was still wearing off but Trowa intercepted his hands and tangled them up with his own. “Trowa--!” Whatever protest Quatre had intended to make died in his throat as Trowa swallowed him whole. His fingers spasmed in their captured grip, steadily tightening as Trowa worked his cock with rough fervency. The wet heat surrounding his cock was drawing every bit of sensation in his body to pool right between his legs. Quatre twisted into it, desperate for more even as he tried to breathe. Trowa felt the flesh in his mouth swell and backed off, letting his mouth slide completely off and away. He didn’t want this over quickly. Ignoring the prone blond’s inarticulate protest, he grabbed the lube out of his nightstand drawer and squeezed a good amount on his fingertips. Quatre raised his head, blinking vision back into his eyes. “Trowa—” “Hush. I don’t want to hurt you by rushing this.” Quatre obeyed when Trowa pressed his legs further apart, drawing his knees up closer to his body. He knew what came next, and was hungry for it. Trowa’s head lowered again, breath hot on the blond’s overly sensitive skin, teeth nibbling lightly on Quatre’s straining erection and heavy balls even as the first finger traced its way around a ring of tight muscle. Trowa had a mantra running through his head of /easy, gently, can’t hurt him/. It repeated in an endless loop as he carefully prepped the tight cherry ass at his fingertips. Quatre moved his hips to thrust himself harder onto those fingers, groaning in the back of his throat whenever the digits brushed against his prostrate. The needy sounds his lover was making had a definite effect on Trowa’s neglected erection, but he clamped down on his response. When he felt Quatre was ready, he withdrew both mouth and hands, drawing him up onto his knees. Quatre was a little befuddled, and wasn’t certain what Trowa had in mind. Did he want him on his hands and knees…? He was even more confused when he felt his lover move around to his back. “Trowa, what..?” Trowa stripped off his shirt as he moved, tossing it carelessly off the bed before quickly working off his shorts. He held Quatre tightly around the waist so the blond couldn’t turn around, and pressed up against his back. They both groaned in pleasure at the skin to skin contact. Trowa shifted to line their bodies up and began to press slowly upwards and in. Quatre grabbed onto the hands around his waist for balance as he was sweetly invaded. He pressed back against his lover, speeding up the process. As soon as Trowa was fully seated inside, he started to move in small increments, loosening Quatre’s entrance even more. The blond let his head fall back against the shoulder behind him, moving to match the pace. When Trowa didn’t speed up, though, he lost all patience and pressed down onto him insistently. Obligingly, Trowa started to thrust harder, slipping almost completely out before slamming back in. They both gasped at the impact. The friction made electric fire dance along their nerves, heating up the air around them to an almost unbearable level of heat. With the rougher rhythm established, Trowa angled his penetration until he found his lover’s sweet spot. White pleasure exploded over Quatre’s vision, erasing the impressions of the outside world so that if Trowa hadn’t been holding him so securely he would have fallen over. He choked on a sob of pleasure, feeling the coil of sensation between his legs tighten sharply. Trowa knew Quatre was close and stopped thrusting. He couldn’t stop all movement; his love-starved body wouldn’t let him. He started to slowly rotate his hips, moving in a circle, chewing restlessly on a bare shoulder. Quatre tilted his head enough to bite savagely at Trowa’s ear. “Stop *teasing* me!” “I want this to last,” Trowa breathed against his skin. His green eyes were slightly hazed in pleasure, but determination was burning brightly. “I am going to stay in you for hours.” Quatre wanted to say something in response to that,
but Trowa started pistoning in him, and the words died before they
could really be formed in his mind. He moved his hips in time with
Trowa’s thrusts and his awareness fell to a level so that just
focusing on breathing was barely within his abilities. Trowa lowered them both to their sides, still moving in deep thrusts inside Quatre’s body. He knew neither of them could last much longer and reached around to grasp the blond’s weeping erection. Quatre lasted about three minutes under that dual assault. He climaxed hard, shuddering, almost screaming as pleasured ripped through his body. Trowa came almost simultaneously, biting down on Quatre’s shoulder to stifle a scream. Drained, he panted for breath and looked at his equally exhausted lover with a smile. /I have to wake up before he does/ Trowa thought to himself muzzily as he relaxed against Quatre’s back. /I can’t let him see./ + Bright morning light hit Quatre square in the face, almost blinding him as he blinked his eyes open. Growling a curse about Mother Nature being too damn enthusiastic this early in the day, he rolled over and cuddled up to Trowa again. But as much as he tried, he couldn’t get back to sleep. Last night had been incredible and mind-blowing. He had thoroughly enjoyed everything that his lover had done to him, and was more than willing to repeat the experience in the not too distant future. Like now. Opening his eyes he pushed the thick comforter away so that he could have more room to work with— --Quatre’s breath stopped cold in his chest. Under his horrified eyes he saw Trowa’s chest and arms, literally covered in scars. Some of them were obviously burns, others clean and sharp like a knife would make…and some of them jagged and puckered where the skin hadn’t healed quite right. Everyone had their share of minor scars from the process of growing up…but this was too severe to be so easily explained. /Who did this?/ + “Jamie?” Quatre’s voice was very quiet as he stood just inside her bedroom doorway. Jamie knew by looking at his face that the time had come to bare all truths. Something had told her yesterday that the two would become lovers…and with that last barrier dropped all of Trowa’s secrets had been revealed. Trowa had known it, had seen the inevitable conclusion…and risked it all anyway because he hadn’t been able to hold himself back from Quatre any longer. She didn’t think that Quatre would shrink from what she had to tell him…but she hoped to god that he would respond the right away so that nothing could break the tender bonds that the two lovers were beginning to build. “Come in, Quatre.” Quatre sank onto the mattress beside her, arms hugging himself tightly as if he were seeking comfort. “There are scars, ugly scars, all over Trowa’s body. Where did they come from?” He looked up at her, almost angry. “Who hurt him?” “Life,” Jamie answered simply. “I don’t understand.” “No, you don’t. And you never truly will, because it is something outside of your experience. I can’t fully understand it either, but I see enough to where I can make the allowances that they need me to.” Jamie saw that he was becoming more confused and not less, so she started from the beginning. “I’m sure you’ve wondered how the boys came to live here. It was Zane and Zathris that first found Duo. He was crumpled in an alleyway, beaten fairly badly. I hauled him home, patched him up…and convinced him that there might be a life here for him and his friends.” Understanding was coming into Quatre’s face, but she could see that he didn’t like the conclusions he was coming to. “Duo’s always said they were brothers, but with different parents.” “They are brothers, in ways deeper than blood. For the past three years, Trowa and Heero have been living on the streets. Duo has been living on them longer than that. They fought together, slept together, stole and did whatever else was necessary to survive.” “The scars,” Trowa’s voice was harsh from the doorway “are from the times I wasn’t quick enough, or smart enough to get away.” Quatre jerked to his feet, eyes wide and fixed on his lover. “Does it sicken you? Knowing the life I led. For all you know, I could have prostituted myself just for a meal—” Jamie winced, wanting to smooth it over…and knowing that nothing she could say or do would make a difference. Quatre threw himself at Trowa, burying his face into the taller boy’s shoulder and holding him fiercely. Trowa’s hands went to his sides, clenching and unclenching as if he were physically holding himself back from grabbing onto the blond. “No. It doesn’t matter. You survived. You’re *here*. You love me. That’s all that matters to me. That’s all that *will* matter to me.” Trowa’s hands caught his lover close, hands gripping the back of his shirt almost desperately even as he buried his face into fine pale hair. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have talked to you like that—” Quatre caught his mouth, kissing him feverishly until Trowa finally relaxed into him. “I love you. Unconditionally. Can you believe that?” Trowa stared at him helplessly. “I don’t know. I don’t know what it means.” “Trowa, that’s a lie,” Jamie corrected him gently. “Do you think the love that Duo or Heero has for you is conditional?” Trowa started, blinking rapidly as he tried to switch gears. “No, but…it’s not the same.” “Love is love,” She answered, shaking her head. “It might come in different ways, but the root of it is the same.” Trowa looked down at the person in his arms, heart racing. Unconditional… “You need time,” Quatre told him softly, his smile almost resigned. “And I think you need me to prove it to you a couple of hundred times before it really sinks in.” Trowa couldn’t find the right way to respond to that. Quatre was right, he did need time. But it seemed so unfair that Quatre be put through the ropes just because he wasn’t able to take what was so freely offered. He did the only thing he could think to do. He pressed a soft kiss to the Arabian’s mouth, cradling his face with both hands. “I love you.” “I know. I love you too. And I’m sorry I went behind your back. I just…” Quatre looked back at Jamie. “I just didn’t want to re-open old wounds, and I thought she might be able to tell me everything.” “It’s okay,” Trowa assured him. “I would have done the same.” Jamie finally decided the time was right to move and went to them, hugging them both around the shoulders for a moment. “I’m glad that’s settled. Now, go back to Trowa’s room and have a hot, sweaty make-out session, okay?” Quatre went bright red, eyes fixed on the floor. Trowa just groaned. “Mothers aren’t supposed to say that sort of thing.” “This one does. Deal with it.” She shooed them out of her room, and made sure that they *did* in fact go to Trowa’s room before she continued getting dressed for the day. + The mood was still a little too somber for ideas of passion. Trowa settled against the headboard of the bed. He wasn’t surprised when Quatre curled up in his lap, eyes fixed on Trowa’s. “Will you tell me?” He didn’t want to. And yet he wanted to. After a moment he started hesitantly. “I…don’t remember much of my parents. My mother died when I was four, almost five. My father was a military man. He didn’t know what to do with me, I think. He was a Seal, and constantly on one mission or another. There were no relatives to leave me with. I was sent to one military school after the next. It was all I knew until I was thirteen. The Colonel called me into his office and told me that my father had been KIA.” Seeing Quatre’s confusion he translated. “Killed in Action. I was paid up until the end of the semester, which was another three weeks away. At that point I would be sent to a foster home in town. I didn’t care. I had stopped caring, by this point, on where I was. The foster home…wasn’t ideal. I tried to stay quiet and out of everyone’s way, but I wasn’t completely successful at it. The father was a drunkard, and mean when he’d had too much Scotch. The wife knew him well enough to judge his mood and get out of the way. I didn’t. He tried to use me as a substitute punching bag, but I wasn’t a middle-aged woman. I knew how to hit back. Without meaning to, I broke his arm in two places, and his nose, and maybe a rib. I’m not sure. Anyway, as he was lying on the ground he started cursing me and saying how he was going to call the law on me. I didn’t know what to do. I had no defenders, no one to turn to for advice or help.” Quatre tightened his hold, feeling his heart clench at the simple, detached way that Trowa was relating his life. It broke Trowa from the memory of the past, and he pressed a kiss against the blond’s forehead before continuing. “I ran. In my panic, I went into the alleyways and side streets, just trying to stay out of view. But all that did was put me into someone else’s view. When night came, I got into two different fights with local punks wanting an easy mark for a fuck. I convinced them it wasn’t me, but it was taking a toll out of me. I knew I couldn’t keep it up for long. I was facing off three thugs when this voice drawled out from the shadows. ‘Hands off, guys. This one belongs to Shinigami.’” “Duo,” Quatre whispered. “Duo,” Trowa confirmed. “He has a reputation on the streets, and no one messes with him unless they have to or they have a lot of people on their side. He’d been watching me for about an hour, and knew that I didn’t have allies or a bolt hole. He just…took me in. I wasn’t sure if I could trust him or not, but it’s hard to resist Duo when he turns his charm full on you. And Heero…we were too much alike to not become friends. We stayed like that for over nearly three years, watching each other’s backs and helping each other. Through it all, we became brothers.” Trowa wasn’t used to talking so much at once, and he sounded a little hoarse by this point. He gave Quatre a gentle smile. “Then Jamie found us.” “Then you found me.” “Considering what I have gained, I am not ashamed of my past. But I don’t want you to know if it, Quatre. And I don’t want you to experience any part of it.” “I know,” Quatre soothed, tilting up to press a kiss against Trowa’s mouth. “But I don’t want you to hide things from me either. Good and bad, okay?” “Okay.” A digestive silence reigned for a bit before Quatre ventured, “I rather liked Jamie’s idea of a hot sweaty make-out session.” Trowa grinned. “I did too.” He gently laid his lover back onto the mattress, bracing his body on one arm above him. Whatever worries he had about his past melted and faded away as Quatre welcomed him with all of the warmth and softness that he had ever craved. ~*~*~*~ Honor: Ha! Lemon written! *does victory dance*
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